


Guilt and Grieving

by ohfortheloveofsinbad



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternatives Mentioned, Depression, Flashbacks, M/M, Mental Illness, Nightmares, Overdose, Sinja, Suicide Attempt, Suicide mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:45:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfortheloveofsinbad/pseuds/ohfortheloveofsinbad
Summary: In this modern AU, Ja'far suffers from frequent nightmares from his terrifying past. Instead of getting help like Sinbad suggests to him, he attempts suicide via overdose. He just wanted the suffering and the nightmares to stop.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please take caution in reading this fic. It holds triggering content that may or not be suitable for some readers. I do not condone suicide, and this story represents my struggle with it. Many of the events surrounding the attempt have been changed to fit the character, though the experience was not. If you are struggling with suicidal tendencies, I am always willing to listen to you, but I also urge you to get help right away.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy the story.

_What am I looking at?_

_He stood in a hospital room, next to a bed with a sickly, dying woman lying in it._

_His eyes widened when he finally realized what this was._

_Not this dream again…!_

_The woman gestured to him weakly, and he slowly approached. He had no control over his body. He wanted to run away, or at least stay put. He didn’t want to suffer through this dream again._

_“Ja’far…” the woman whispered weakly. “I’m sorry to put you through this, my son…”_

_“Mom… no, please… don’t speak,” Ja’far begged. His voice was in a higher pitch than it was when he was awake. It was as though he were speaking in the voice of his younger self._

_“I… don’t have much time left…” his mother rasped. “I love you, my dear… please… stay strong… for me…”_

_Tears dripped down Ja’far’s pale cheeks. “Mom, no! Stay with me! Mommy!”_

_Her grip grew weak, her body relaxed into the bed and her eyes closed for a final time before the one of the many machines she was attached to blared a long, high note as she flatlined._

_His mother… She had been the only one to show him love or affection throughout his childhood, and she had died while he was no older than five._

_His father would leave him in the hospital during visiting hours because he never wanted him around. His father had been stuck with his mother only because she had become pregnant with him, therefore he had always hated Ja’far, and held an obvious dislike for his mother._

_He didn’t even attend her funeral._

_Ja’far wished that the dream would just end there, but he knew that would never happen, as it never did before._

_The walls and objects around him blurred and faded out of existence, only to be replaced with the familiar setting of his old home._

_He stood on old, tattered carpet, surrounded by dusty, worn furniture. The house smelled heavily of smoke and alcohol._

_His father manifested before him, holding a cat which he had fed every morning on his way to school. Its fluffy white coat was matted with dried blood, and its blue eyes were glazed over from death._

_The evil man threw the carcass at Ja’far’s feet, all while the boy wailed in grief over his lost friend._

_The settings around him began to change as his dreams sped through every instance of bullying he suffered at the hands of his father and the children from school, reminding him of the many broken bones, bruises, cuts, scrapes, and demeaning words given to him freely._

_Then… Everything stopped._

_The world went black._

_Ja’far looked down to see a gun in his bloody hands, and the body of his father in front of him._

_Next thing he knew, he was running as far and as fast as his legs would carry him._


	2. Solution?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ja'far wakes from his nightmare only to have an argument with Sinbad. He finds himself in a bad state of mind and considers doing something that cannot be undone simply to make all of the overwhelming feelings he has go away.

Ja’far shot up with a gasp. He was covered in sweat and his heart was racing fast. Any further attempt at sleep would be futile.

His lover, Sinbad, groaned and turned to Ja’far’s direction. He sleepily reached out and closed his arm around the man’s waist, then pulled him close. “ ‘nother bad dream?” he murmured softly.

Ja’far gulped and snuggled as close to Sinbad as he could. “Yeah…”

Sinbad kissed Ja’far’s forehead sweetly. “It’s alright… I’ve got you…” he soothed. “Do you need anything?”

Ja’far checked the time on the alarm clock resting on the nightstand. Three a.m.

“No,” he said. “Go back to bed. I’m going to shower and go to work.”

Sinbad opened a sleepy eye and checked the clock. “ ‘s too early for that,” he mumbled as he hugged Ja’far closer.

“Maybe, but I’m not going to sleep for the rest of the night,” Ja’far claimed.

“This’s been happening a lot lately…” Sinbad said with a yawn. “Do you need to see a therapist?”

“I’m already on enough pills, Sin,” Ja’far said with a sigh. “I doubt they could do anything about nightmares, anyway.”

Sinbad thought for a moment. “Is there anything I can do?” he asked. “These nightmares are affecting me, too. I can’t sleep when you thrash around like you do.”

Ja’far crinkled his nose. Well, sorry he was having nightmares he couldn’t control. “Then I’ll leave you alone,” he said. “Go back to bed. I’m going to work.”

Sinbad let out a long breath. “You sound angry. You know I didn’t mean it in a rude way,” he said.

“I don’t care. I’m mad at you now. Go to sleep,” Ja’far grumped as he tore his body out of Sinbad’s embrace.

“Noooooooooo!” Sinbad whined. “It’s cold without you…”

“Suffer,” Ja’far growled. He grabbed his work clothes and a towel and stalked out of the room. He’d shower downstairs so he wouldn’t bother Sinbad.

All of the angry, depressing, and demeaning thoughts, as well as the doubts and the guilt, hit him the moment he stood under the searing stream of hot water.

Ja’far sank to his knees and began to cry as he thought until the water turned from hot to cold.

He had to force himself to stand. He worked against what his body wanted him to do- which was stand still and never move again- as he washed his hair, and then his body.

He stepped out of the shower the moment he’d washed all the suds had been washed off. He turned the water off and dried himself off with his towel thoroughly, then dressed himself, his mind blank, his body numb.

These nightmares really needed to stop. He needed to stop doing this every time he woke up, but… It was impossible. He couldn’t control the nightmares. He couldn’t control how his body reacted after he woke up. Everything seemed hopeless.

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he walked out of the bathroom. The guilt and anguish he felt over his past every day was wearing him down to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could go on any longer.

He didn’t want to become the sort of person with depression so bad that he couldn’t drag himself out of bed. His image would suffer. He would suffer. The people he cared about would suffer.

He couldn’t have that. He’d rather just end it all right then and there.

Well… That was an option, wasn’t it?

If he killed himself, there would be no more nightmares, no more guilt, no more pain, no more suffering… No more anything.

Of course, that also meant no more Sin… but he has plenty of friends. He’d have no trouble finding another lover, either. He was… well, almost perfect. Ja’far figured he didn’t deserve him, anyway.

He supposed that settled it. He’d work out a plan at work. Today was a great day to do it as well, as it was Friday, and every Friday night, Sinbad would go out to drink with his friends, which meant Ja’far would be all alone in the house for as long as he needed.

Ja’far slipped on his shoes and walked outside into the cold morning air. The sun hadn’t even risen yet.

He got into his car and turned it on. He saw the time on the clock connected to the radio. It was five in the morning. He had a long day ahead of him.


	3. Time to Take Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After showing his assistant Pipirika how to handle the work he does on a daily basis, Ja'far returns home to finally put his plan into action.

_“I see you came in early again today, Ja’far,” Pipirika said with a polite smile._

_“I couldn’t sleep,” Ja’far said. “Plus, it helps to have a little extra pocket money from the few extra hours I work.”_

_“Isn’t that illegal?”_

_“It’s not like I’m going to sue the company I helped build for allowing me to work all I’d like.”_

_“Understandable.”_

_Ja’far smiled at her and turned in his seat to face her. “Pipirika, I think it’s about time I showed you how to handle executive work like this.”_

_Pipirika’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? Why?” she asked. “Are you quitting?”_

_Ja’far laughed, albeit nervously. “No, no, nothing like that,” he said. “It just worries me to think that you might not be able to understand what you need to do should anything happen to me.”_

_Pipirika gave him a suspicious look, but agreed to allow him to train her._

Ja’far groaned as he thought over what he had said to his assistant. He sat in his car, embarrassed over how suspiciously he had acted. He wished he could go back in time and do that conversation over just a little better.

He started his car and turned up the radio to distract himself from his thoughts. He drove himself home in a daze. Buildings, houses, and lights passed by in a blur. The music he was listening to was almost muffled. It was as though he couldn’t process anything that was happening.

He arrived home after what felt like hours of driving. When he finally parked himself in the driveway, he turned his car off and fell limp in his seat. He stared at his steering wheel. His body didn’t seem to want to move, and he couldn’t force himself to unbuckle his seatbelt, open the door, and go inside.

The feeling of being paralyzed wore off after several minutes. He got out of his car, his body feeling heavy, and walked into his house. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep, but he had a plan to carry out.

During his lunch break, he had decided that an overdose would be the best measure for his suicide. He didn’t want to make a mess with blood, and he feared he might break something if he tried to hang himself.

He walked over to the fridge and opened the freezer. He reached back and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

He’d never been a fan of alcohol, but he’d done his research during his breaks and found that mixing it with pills made for a more effective overdose.

He grabbed a pen and some paper, then walked to his bedroom and set down his things. He went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, where he gathered up all of the pill bottles inside. He then returned to the bed and sat down on the mattress, grabbed the pen and paper, and wrote his suicide note.

The note was set on the nightstand after being neatly folded.

Ja’far sighed and settled himself under the covers of his bed. He opened all the pill bottles and downed as many as he could with the whiskey. First was the high-dosage depression pills, then two different kinds of painkillers, and finally, sleeping pills.

He then took as many swigs of the whiskey as he could stand before setting the bottle on the side of the bed.

Ja’far felt sick to his stomach as he settled back down into bed. Adrenaline rushed through him like waves. He’d really just done that. There was no turning back, but he couldn’t help but wonder… was this truly the right thing?

He’d read that overdosing was painful. Could it truly be that bad? Hopefully, he would pass out before any of the pain began to kick in… but what if he didn’t?

It was a little late to be having doubts. He had to silence them somehow, but he couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want the last thing he experienced to be another nightmare.

To silence his thoughts, he pulled out his phone. The clock showed him that it was eight at night.

Ja’far hoped the process wouldn’t take too long as he unlocked the device and began to read a book he’d downloaded the week before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression is really something scary. If any of you are wondering why it's hit Ja'far so hard recently, it's because (and it can be noted) that he hasn't been taking his medication.


	4. A Bad Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short time skip forward reveals just what the pills have done to Ja'far. Overdose was definitely not the best choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overdosing is probably one of the worst methods of suicide. Not only do you experience awful, terrifying side effects, but you don't die peacefully at all. You die from organ failure. Overdose is most definitely one of the most painful methods of suicide. This chapter runs through only a small amount of what I faced. Ja'far here is lucky enough to have someone to help him through it, unlike I did.

Ja’far had lost track of time as he read. He didn’t even note which chapter he was on when he was forced to stop due to the heavy tremors that wracked his suddenly frigid hands. He had no way to check where he had stopped, as his eyes would no longer focus on anything. Every time he tried to hone in on a word, his eyes would shift rapidly back and forth against his will.

He set his phone down and tried to rest as darkness settled around him, but with the darkness came a new problem.

He began to see shapes form in the darkness. They started off small- like a tiny fairy he saw dancing freely about his bed. She was like a ball of light in the shape of a tiny girl with wings, and she treaded lightly along the covers with feather-light feet.

After a while of looking at her, she disappeared in a flash of light.

Paranoia and anxiety began to wash over him once she disappeared. He was left alone in the dark, and he felt as though he were being watched.

He began to feel pain in his stomach, and his abdomen began to swell painfully. He wondered if this meant that one of his organs were about to burst.

Only then did Ja’far realized that he had forgotten to breathe. His body didn’t seem to want to do that on its own. He gasped heavily for breath, then swallowed thickly. His mouth was bone dry.

His eyes darted around the room nervously, and he spotted several large, shadowy creatures lurking at the edge of his bed. They were whispering things that he couldn’t understand. All of their quiet voices seemed to overlap in his mind.

Was he seeing demons? Were these the reapers who were going to drag him to hell once he died?

Every time he blinked, the creatures seemed to grow closer and closer.

Perhaps it was they who were going to kill him instead of the pills.

Tears began to drip from Ja’far’s eyes as he watched them. He was scared. Oh, god, he was so scared. He didn’t want to move out of the fear that one or all of the creatures would lunge at him if he did. The same went for screaming, or making any noise at all, for that matter.

If only the tremors would stop… then he might feel safer, but they only seemed to be getting worse with every moment that passed by.

He drew in another deep breath. He felt as though he were choking. His body was so cold.

Just how far was he from death?

He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there, tormented by the visions of black demons and the near inability to breathe, but he eventually heard a door close from downstairs.

“Ja’far! I’m home!”

Was that… Sin?

There was no way. He may not have been keeping track of time, but he knew that it was far too early for him to be home!

Even still, Ja’far wanted to call out to him, but his anxiety stopped him. What if Sin got mad that he was trying to kill himself? What if the demons in the room attacked him the moment he stepped foot in the room?

He couldn’t let anything bad happen to Sin, so he stayed quiet.

“Ja’far? Are you home?” Sinbad asked loudly.

He heard his lover’s heavy footfalls as he climbed up the stairs.

Ja’far squeezed his eyes shut as the door handle to the room turned. If the beings were going to attack his lover, he didn’t care to watch. He couldn’t even do anything about it.

The door opened, and Sinbad turned on the light. “Ah, sorry, were you sleeping?” Sinbad asked.

Ja’far slowly opened an eye after a few moments of silence. There hadn’t been any sounds that indicated Sinbad had been attacked.

He grunted as blinding light filled his pupils, but he soon got used to it and opened the other eye.

To his surprise, the monsters he had seen had disappeared.

“Ja’far, are you okay?” Sinbad asked. “You’re so pale…”

He saw the pill bottles on the nightstand, as well as the whiskey, and walked over to him.

“Are you sick? It’s not good to take medication with alcohol, Ja’far,” Sinbad scolded.

He picked up one of the pill bottles and went pale when he realized it was empty.

Just to be sure he wasn’t panicking over nothing, he picked up all of the other pill bottles to see if they were also empty, which they were.

“Ja’far!” Sinbad cried. “Did you take all of these?!”

Ja’far gulped and looked away. There was the yelling he had feared. Sinbad’s voice sounded muffled to him, though, as if he had cotton in his ears.

“You need to throw up right now!” Sinbad said. He lifted Ja’far into his arms with ease and dragged him into the bathroom.

He looked around frantically for something to make his lover throw up, but found nothing. With a grimace, he sat in the bathtub with him and shoved his fingers down Ja’far’s throat.

Ja’far gagged and grabbed at Sinbad’s arm as he tried to tear the man’s hand away from his mouth. His attempts failed, and the fingers were shoved deeper down his throat, which made him gag harder.

Ja’far finally threw up, and Sinbad yanked his hand away from the man’s mouth.

Once he started, Ja’far could no longer stop. He threw up over and over until he was left retching up bile. He had covered himself as well as the floor of the bath in nearly clear fluid spotted with red and little clumps of white matter, which were assumed to be undissolved pills.

Sinbad sighed in relief. “Okay, okay… it doesn’t look like you’re bleeding internally,” he said. He turned on the shower to wash away some of the gunk. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

Ja’far shook his head. “No…” he choked out. If he were set to die, then he wanted it to happen. He figured that if he lived or died after his stupid decision would be his fate. If he lived, maybe it meant life still had something in store for him.

“Ja’far, I think I really should get you some help…” Sinbad said.

“Please… don’t…” Ja’far begged.

He heard Sinbad swallow thickly as he assumedly tried to decide what would be the best course of action.

“I don’t want to lose you,” the older man said. His voice cracked with the sadness he felt.

Ja’far weakly tilted his head upward to look at him. He wasn’t sure if the water streaming down Sinbad’s cheeks was because of the shower, or if he was crying.

“Sin…?” he whispered.

Sinbad hugged Ja’far tight and began to sob. “You scared me so bad…” he whimpered. “Why’d you do it?”

Ja’far shakily touched Sinbad’s hand. “Hard… to talk…” he said. “On… the letter.”

Sinbad sighed. “You really are a mess, you know that, right?” he asked as he wiped away some of the water on his face. He breathed in shakily. “And I’m not just talking about the physical mess.”

Ja’far frowned. “ ’m… sorry…” he whispered.

Sinbad held Ja’far closer. “We’re going to get you some help, alright?” he promised. “Please... Don’t _ever_ do this again. I’d be devastated if I lost you.”

“Okay…” Ja’far breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might feel hopeless, or like suicide might be the only way out. Maybe you've attempted. Maybe no one has been there for you. I want you to know that somebody cares about you, even if you feel like nobody does. I'm open to listen to anyone at about any time if you need someone to talk to. I understand that some of you might be too shy to seek help. I want you all to know that hard times will pass. It WILL get better. The best way to make it easier is to find something to live for, even if it's small. Find something that makes you excited, like an upcoming show or book for example. No reason for living is a stupid reason.
> 
> I hope everything goes well for you all.


	5. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the hard night Ja'far and Sinbad suffered, they begin to take steps toward recovery.

That night, Sinbad had helped Ja’far clean up, then stayed awake with him until the hallucinations stopped. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of his lover. He kept Ja’far in his lap and hugged him around the waist until the younger man fell asleep. He then carried him to bed and slept with Ja’far held close to his chest the entire night.

Ja’far awoke early in the morning. He was surprised to find that he had not died during the night, and that was more than likely because of Sinbad’s help. It was then he realized that perhaps he had more to his life than he thought. Perhaps there was a way past the nightmares. Perhaps there was a chance he could get better.

He had to do any and everything he could to get better in order to make it up to Sin.

He gently pulled away from his lover’s embrace, being careful not to wake him up, and he slid out of bed.

The moment he tried to stand, however, he learned that his legs would not support him, and he landed on the floor with a loud _thump_ and a grunt of pain.

“Sin…” he whined helplessly.

The man’s head immediately shot up off the pillow. “Wha-? Ja’far?” he asked. “Where are you? Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

“I can’t move… Can you help me?” Ja’far asked from the floor.

Sinbad nearly jumped out of bed once his lover voiced his distress. He scooped Ja’far up into his arms and carried him back into bed. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked.

Ja’far shook his head. “I’m fine… my muscles just aren’t working right…” he said. He was glad that it was at least easier to talk.

“You’re still shaking…” Sinbad murmured. “You’re not working today. Or tomorrow. Actually, I think you should take all of next week off, too.”

“Sin, that’s too much!” Ja’far protested.

“Don’t argue with your boss,” Sinbad growled. “I’m being generous. I don’t think it’s enough.”

Ja’far huffed and looked away.

“I’m going to get you hooked up with a psychiatrist this week, and then I’m scheduling you for some therapy sessions, okay?” Sinbad said.

Ja’far sighed. “Fine…”

“Don’t get grumpy with me,” Sinbad said. “Suicide is a big deal, Ja’far. I don’t want you feeling like this, and I never want an incident like this to happen ever again.”

“Alright…” Ja’far mumbled. “I’m… I’m really sorry, Sin…”

“Don’t be,” Sinbad whispered. He sweetly kissed Ja’far’s temple. “You can’t help depression. I still want to know what drove you to such extremes, though.”

Ja’far buried his nose into Sinbad’s chest. “It was the nightmares… and the guilt…” he mumbled.

Sinbad gave him a sorrowful look. “I’m going to help you get through all this,” he promised. “We’re going to make a few changes. One of them is that you’re going to take more time off of work, and I’m going to be home more often for you.”

Ja’far nodded. “I guess… If that’s what you want…” he mumbled.

“It is,” Sinbad said.

“I have a question,” Ja’far said.

“Ask away.”

“Why did you come back so early last night? I thought you would be out drinking.”

Sinbad gave him a sheepish grin. “Well… I felt bad over our little misunderstanding this morning,” he admitted. “So I decided that it would be better to spend my night with you to try and make it better. I bought you some flowers, too.”

Little tears pricked the corners of Ja’far’s eyes. “Flowers…?” he asked.

“Yeah, I put them in the vase downstairs. Would you like to see them?” Sinbad asked.

Ja’far nodded.

Sinbad carried him out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and into the kitchen where a vase full of vibrant red roses rested.

“They’re beautiful…” Ja’far whispered.

Sinbad kissed his head. “As are you.”

Sinbad called into work for the both of them and canceled their appointments for the next week under the claim that he and Ja’far were going out of town.

He then set up an appointment with a psychiatrist, and then a counselor.

Sinbad accompanied Ja’far to both appointments, and Ja’far was given a change in medication, then a regular schedule with the counselor, who helped him to work through his problems and gave him a list of healthy coping mechanisms.

Sinbad and Ja’far’s relationship grew stronger as Ja’far got better, and they spent more time together than ever before. They were happier, though they still had their ups and downs, as every couple does, and Ja’far still struggled with his own problems even with all the help he had, as medicine doesn’t quite cure everything, but, despite it all, Ja’far was content with his life, and he never once considered suicide again, as he had learned that it was definitely not the answer.

Life gets better, and he sometimes kicks himself in frustration for not learning it sooner, because if it weren’t for the help he had received, he might not have learned it at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a romantic relationship specifically that will help you through your struggles, exactly. A friendship can definitely be more effective. As an aromantic person, myself, I don't quite like the thought of "relationships solve everything," but I love this pairing, and with Sinja's romance, their relationship is rooted deeply and mainly with a close friendship, which I think is the best possible thing.
> 
> Anyway, if you are struggling, but you feel as though no one is there for you, or you fear talking to someone you know about how you feel, you can always Google "suicide" on your browser, and the top result you receive will be a suicide hotline that is open 24 hours a day.
> 
> Please seek help if you feel suicidal. It's not the answer, I promise you. I bid you all a good day or night depending on what time you are reading this, and I hope you enjoyed the story! Keep your eyes peeled for more chapter stories and oneshots from me in the near future!


End file.
